


Golden Phantom

by Madoroki



Category: Persona 5, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: (sorry about the original stand and character but I gotta get Giorno to Tokyo somehow), (there's only one though), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crossover, Gen, I just wanted them to interact don't throw me in crossover jail, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, because I couldn't handle the angst for this one, buccellati is basically everyone's mom, if you squint there's giomis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madoroki/pseuds/Madoroki
Summary: With the news of suspicious disappearances occurring within Passione in Florence, Italy, Giorno and Mista venture out on an investigation to get to the bottom of it. After a long hunt, they eventually encounter who they suspect is the culprit, and engage in battle with the mysterious stand user. That was the last thing he remembered.The next thing Giorno knew, he was standing in the busy streets of Tokyo, Japan, bleeding, alone, and very cold. The boy was at a loss for how to get home, but a group of concerned teenagers might be able to get him closer to the answers he craves.[Vento Aureo x Persona 5]





	1. Chapter 1

**[Naples, Italy / March 2002]**

 

Spring had just begun in Italy, and unsurprisingly, it was Giorno’s favorite time of the year. He had always been one who loved to be outside, enjoying the smell of the ocean and the earth between his toes. The boy would often get in trouble as a child for being gone too long, but the punishment from his step-father was never enough to make him resent doing so. Thinking back on it now, it seemed funny to him as to why he was abused for staying out of his step-fathers way. Did the man think he would escape and try to run away, or was it simply because he had nothing better to do with his useless life?

 

Giorno looked to the window on the other side of the room. It was small and in a position that wouldn’t allow someone like a sniper to have a good shot. The only purpose of the thing was to allow natural lighting into the otherwise dark place. For someone who frequently roamed the city of Naples as a petty thief, it was definitely hard to get used to being cooped up in a room for many hours during the day. His only comfort was the window.

 

Still, he imagined the flowers blooming and the birds flying about. Maybe it was time to take an hour off and get some fresh air. He could almost hear the ocean when he closed his eyes.

 

When he noticed a new presence had entered the room, his visions ceased. Of course, it was only times when he was alone where he could allow his mind to wander to such topics. Without the other man even uttering a word, he could already assume he knew why he had arrived.

 

The man was none other than Bruno Buccellati, his trusted friend and former capo when he had been a part of his squad. Words could not describe how grateful he felt to have met a man such as Buccellati while within Passione. Through their encounter as enemies, they were able to connect due to their ambition to make the world a better place. They shared similar dreams.

 

“Another one?” The blonde leaned forward in his chair as the other man handed him a folder. He wished he could say he’d lost count of how many times this scenario had been repeated, but the boss was not one to forget. This folder, essentially containing the life of one of his members, marked the fourteenth disappearance.

 

Passione was never the largest gang despite its strength. When Giorno was first recruited, there were only around 756 members in total. It never needed to be large due to Diavolo’s possession of the stand arrows. The blonde had seen first hand what members had to go through to make it in. With Polpo’s test it was either develop a stand, or perish. Thanks to the presence of stand users, it was no wonder why Passione was able to flourish under Diavolo.

 

When Giorno took over, the first thing he needed to do was remove the bad apples from the bunch, leaving them at an even smaller number than before. Over the months though, their numbers had been steadily rising again. It was very positive news. That’s why the disappearances were concerning.

 

“She was last seen near Florence, which practically solidifies our speculation.” Giorno flipped open the folder. There weren’t very many pages inside, just a profile and list of achievements.

 

From what he could gather, there was no correlation between the victims’ ages or genders, all that was certain was that all the disappearances occurred in or around Florence. As the boss, there was no way he was able to keep up with every little thing that went on, especially when it involved his soldiers and/or associates. By the time the magnitude of the issue had escalated to the point of arousing suspicion, they already had 10 missing people on their hands.

 

He put the few contents back into the folder and set it on his desk after quickly, but thoroughly, glancing them over. “Was there an item this time as well?”

 

At the last known location of every one of the gangsters that had disappeared, an item seemingly belonging to them was left behind. Whether that be a piece of their clothing or an object they were carrying, the appearance of one was always documented.

 

Buccellati reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet made of small wooden beads. It seemed handmade by the way it was tied in a knot to keep it together. From the appearance alone, the maker was either very young or terrible at their craft. Giorno set the piece of jewelry on top of the folder. “So that confirms things then,” he clasped his hands together and used them to hold up his chin, “I think it’s about time we send someone to check it out.”

 

“My thoughts exactly, do you have anyone in mind?” Buccellati questioned. Giorno paused for a moment, and then called for Mista.

 

The gunman immediately came in from around the corner of the door. Mista and Giorno were never far apart due to him being his underboss, but this wasn’t their only motivation for staying close. Giorno had come to bond with Mista the most out of anyone else in their team, and found that their abilities worked well together.

 

That’s not saying that Giorno didn’t feel a strong bond with anyone else, Buccellati being a great example. Because of this, it was a very hard decision for Giorno when choosing who he wanted to be his right hand man, but in the end he decided Mista would be the more effective choice. The older man was far more suited for a tactical role than one involving combat, though he could respectively hold his own regardless.

 

“Yes boss?”

 

“Can you arrange for a car? We’re heading to Florence, I’ll explain on the way.” The blonde stood up and grabbed his coat, which was hanging on a rack just behind his desk. It was a beautiful cream white color with real fur around the hood and edges. The teen tried not to purchase clothes unless they were necessary, but when he did they were likely designer and not cheap.

 

Mista spoke while walking out, not needing to question it. “On it.”

 

Buccellati turned to Giorno with a look he couldn’t quite read, “I’m guessing you know I don’t think this is a good idea, right? You’ve probably heard this a thousand times by now, but you aren’t just an ordinary member of the gang anymore. Someone else could handle this.”

 

“I’m a bit interested in the person we’re dealing with,” he said while sliding an arm through one of the coat’s sleeves, “they seem a bit different from those who we’ve come across thus far. They’re definitely a stand user due to the fact that all of those who’ve disappeared were people with stands. Only stand users can defeat other stand users.”

 

“That doesn’t mean that me or Narancia couldn’t go instead.” He could see that Giorno was considering his words, but had no intention of having anyone else go. It was like talking to a wall.

 

“In a busy place like Florence, Narancia’s Aerosmith wouldn’t be efficient unless our guy was injured, and I need you here to watch things while I’m gone. You’re the only one who’s qualified enough for the job.” He wasn’t wrong. There were very few people in the gang that Giorno could trust enough to temporarily give his position to. The thought of Narancia running Italy for a day was enough to send chills down Buccellati’s back.

 

He sighed. “It seems I spoke without thinking. I’ll put my faith in you.”

 

That almost elicited a chuckle from the boy, but he immediately turned serious again, returning to the topic. “I don’t like the idea of someone going missing out of nowhere, much less with no signs of blood or a motive. Most of them were relatively low in the hierarchy as well…” he paused, “a part of me wants to say the stand user behind this is baiting us. ” 

 

“What makes you say that?” 

 

“Theoretically, the best way to overthrow the boss, assuming I’m his target, would be to gradually rise in the ranks, similar to what we did. But I think what the culprit is trying to do is skip all of that. By causing a big enough stir, he knows I’d have to pay him notice eventually. He wants me to come to him,” Giorno took a moment to think before continuing, “of course all of this is relatively baseless, there’s no way to prove any of it until we encounter the man himself. ”

 

“So your ‘hunch’ involves this entire thing being a trap, and you’re taking the bait? I assume you have a plan?” Buccellati questioned, his tone unconfident. He already knew the answer.

 

“My plan is not to lose my life nor my position, so I’m confident that the plan will be successful,” Giorno’s mouth raised slightly, not in a way of amusement but instead confidence, “I have a feeling the disappearances will only continue, so I’d prefer to end this sooner than later.”

 

Buccellati shook his head in defeat. He didn’t even know why he tried to argue with the boy at this point. But it was Giorno’s resolve that made him an exceptional leader. After all this time, he’d be foolish if he didn’t believe in it.

 

When you really came to get to know Giorno Giovanna, the first thing that stuck out about him was his resolve. Once he set his mind to do something, nothing but death would be able to stop him. He was unsure if  _ that  _ would be enough. Buccellati had seen his companion gravely injured before, but even then he kept trudging onward towards his glimmering dream.

 

Standing face-to-face with him now made Buccellati feel a confounding sense of pride. In terms of their lives, they hadn’t been in each other's for very long. Nevertheless, to the man it felt like he had watched a boy grow up. The same man he had met through a mission to kill, one with no prior confidants or family, had made his mark in the world and achieved his goal of becoming a Gang-star. 

 

“Boss, we’re ready to go.” Mista had returned.

 

“Alright.” Giorno turned to Buccellati and gave him a look of reassurance. He nodded in response. Once again he would have to put his faith in this 15 year old boy. It was not very hard to do, but he still worried. As Mista was about to follow, Buccellati stopped him.

 

“I want you to contact me as soon as you two arrive, and every few hours afterwards.”

 

Mista laughed, “Alright mom, you do know  _ I’m  _ the second in command here right?”

 

“I’m serious Mista. This doesn’t feel right to me.” Guido was taken aback slightly. It had been a long time since he’d seen Buccellati without his normal composure. It kind of put him on edge.

 

He waved his hands in the air. “Ok I get it, I get it, so relax a bit, alright? You’re freaking me out.”

 

“If I don’t hear from you, I’ll personally come find you two myself.”

 

Mista smiled and put a hand on Buccellati’s shoulder, hoping to ease their anxieties at the same time. After a second, he turned around and went out the way he came. Similar to the former capo, Mista had noticed Giorno’s splendor. It was hard not to when he shone so brightly amongst everything else. Like a single star in the night sky. Despite the fact that Guido was older, he couldn’t help but look up to the blonde. He trusted him with his life. He felt like his position as underboss meant Giorno felt the same.

 

That idea always filled him with motivation. “I’d never let anything happen to him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So we’re walking into a trap??” Mista was kind of beginning to understand where Buccellati was coming from. There was this thing about Giorno where he would put himself in danger if he thought it would lead him to a situation where he had the upper hand. In that sense, he felt they were similar. But the thing about Mista is he never  _ willingly  _ walked into suicidal danger, at least he tried his damn best not to.

 

“ _ I’m _ walking into a trap, I want you be watching from another location ready to shoot.” Giorno corrected.

 

“Oh yes that makes me feel so much better.” Mista said sarcastically as he rubbed his hat. God he wished he could go one day without getting shot, just one day. Today really didn’t feel like that kind of day unfortunately.

 

“There’s a good possibility he’s expecting us, so we’ll have to be on guard the moment we near Florence.”

 

“And how do we find him? The disappearances aren’t all happening at the same spot.” Mista glanced over at Giorno. His chin and mouth were blocked from his view by the fur around the collar of his coat. Even as it was warming up outside he still wore thick clothes, unlike Mista who had on the usual. Maybe the boss of the strongest gang in Italy wasn’t very good with the cold? That made him smile.

 

He turned over to his companion, who he realized had been silent. Watching Giorno think was always interesting. It was almost as if you could see him putting the pieces together through his turquoise eyes. Although he regularly appeared to be to be very composed and serious, not even he could hide the truths only eyes could bear.

 

“Hey Mista can you pass me the map from inside of my bag?”

 

‘Huh?’ Mista looked around and noticed that right next to him was a small sack. Surprisingly, he hadn’t noticed its existence until now. “When did that get there?”

 

Mista rummaged through it until he found a small piece of folded paper. He passed it over and watched as Giorno unfolded it, revealing a map of Florence. It looked like he had marked specific locations in red pen. He pressed the map flat against his lap and motioned for Mista to scoot closer.

 

“I’ve been labeling the places where our missing members were last seen, according to where their items were found and the reports of the people we have stationed in the city.” He took out a pen from his pocket and made another dot on the map, “and this is where the most recent event occurred, just a few hours ago.” Before Mista could say anything, Giorno continued. “Now if we connect the dots...”

 

Using the pen again, he attached all of the dots to one another. Mista was starting to catch on. “Are they establishing a boundary?“

 

Giorno nodded slightly, “That’s what I believe. I’m assuming that if we patrol within these lines we’ll eventually find our guy.” He then folded up the map and slid it into his pocket along with the pen. It may have been a meaningless task, but he managed to make even something like that look graceful.

 

They continued mulling over the details of the plan for a while longer until eventually their voices faded to nothing. It wasn’t an awkward silence, instead it was a calming one. A tranquil nothingness that neither of them wanted to disrupt. Very rarely did the life of a gangster involve peace.

 

Sometimes, Mista’s focus would drift and he’d watch Giorno gaze at the world outside of the window as it flew past. No matter how mature he was for his age, he still had a somewhat childish sense of curiosity that hadn’t faded. An extra sparkle deep within that rarely showed.

 

He wondered what the blonde thought about as they sat there in silence. He probably, no he  _ definitely  _ didn’t think about the same things Mista did at 15. Giorno Giovanna existed in an entirely different world, but some force of gravity brought them together. Hours dissolved into minutes with the stillness and sparse conversation, to the point where Guido hadn’t realized they’d arrived.

 

**[Florence, Italy]**

 

Florence was a beautiful city, and one that Giorno had never seen in person. He would’ve loved to have experienced it through something like a vacation, but instead he had a purpose in being there. The two of them had decided on searching on foot instead of from within the car, something Mista initially argued against.

 

“I don’t believe we’d be attacked in busy locations such as on the streets, it wouldn’t be convenient or efficient.” Is what Giorno had said, and so he followed his lead. The boy wasn’t often caught being incorrect, and when he was it always somehow ended up leading to the proper solution anyway.

 

They began by walking along the edges of their determined boundary with the help of the map that Giorno still had on him, but not before Mista asked the driver to notify Buccellati of their arrival. It was hard for them to get a good look at everyone that passed by. In a city such as this, there wasn’t a single thing not in motion, from the clouds in the sky to the flowing water of the Arno river.

 

The tall buildings surrounded them as they continued, casting shadows from the sun. Children were out and about, playing together after the melting of the snow. They ran and laughed with not a care in the world. And then there were the flocks of tourists basking in the beauty of a new place. The smiles that spread across their faces were able to convey the words neither of them could understand.

 

It was a peaceful place despite the bustle. A light breeze carried the smell of river water to their noses, which acted as their company on the hunt. Nobody in the city but them was aware of the fourteen people who had all suddenly ceased to exist, gone without so much as a drop of blood. Compared to the population around them, a number such as fourteen seemed miniscule. Giorno pondered how many of them were even aware of Passione’s existence.

 

He didn’t believe in fate, but he did believe in the string that pulled all stand users together. He had confidence that they would inevitably run into who they were looking for as long as they kept moving. The boy didn’t know if he could bring back the missing, but he wouldn’t allow for any more to be taken.

 

They went on for hours, a single step at a time. As they began growing ever closer to the center of the map, Mista was becoming visibly more unconfident. “Hey boss, are you sure we haven’t just been walking around in circles all day?”

 

“You know you can just call me Giorno when we’re alone.”

 

“Just a habit at this point I guess, I mean technically we’re working so...” Mista trailed off.

 

“Follow me and pay attention.” It was sudden, but Giorno grabbed Mista’s sleeve and gently began to lead him through the crowds of people. “Keep looking forward.”   
  


He stiffened a bit but did what he was told. Mista assumed they were being followed and that Giorno had caught onto it before he had. They stayed at relatively the same pace as before, but slowly started distancing themselves from those around them.

 

Giorno took an unexpected right turn that almost made Mista lose his balance. Once his composure was restored, he realized he had been brought to an empty alley-like street away from everything else. Farther down the alley he could see a dead end where the path opened up, he assumed it was an area in between buildings that was too small to do anything with.

 

“We don’t have much time so I’ll make things quick,” he turned and calmly looked at his partner directly in the eyes. “When we get to the end of this street I want you to go right and find a place to hide with a good shot of me. Do not shoot until I give you the signal, under  _ any  _ circumstances.”

 

“What’s the signal?”

 

“I haven’t thought of one yet, but you’ll know it when you see it.” Giorno’s mouth curled and Mista groaned.

 

Then they were off. Mista momentarily lost sight of Giorno when he rounded the corner. After a second to process his surroundings, he positioned himself behind a large garbage collector and adjusted it slightly to achieve a better shot. Then he removed his pistol that was safely tucked away in his pants and readied himself.

 

Moments later he saw Giorno enter the clearing. It seemed as though he hadn’t run like Mista had. Giorno took long, graceful steps, his tight braid bumping up against his back. He continued walking until he stood directly in the center.

 

Without turning, he spoke to someone Mista couldn’t yet see. “I assume you’re the one I’ve been hearing so much about recently, am I wrong?”

 

Next, Mista heard a faint chuckle and footsteps. The man who entered the clearing next was tall but not particularly muscular. He concealed his face with a hood. Slowly raising his pistol, Mista took aim, ready to fire the trigger in a split second.

 

“You’d be correct  _ boss _ .” You could hear the smirk on his face.

 

It was then that Giorno turned, face unreadable. “Would you care to humor me with your intentions?”

 

“Y’know, I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re the prodigy type, right? Don’t tell me you hadn’t already put two and two together.” the blonde analyzed each word. 

 

“I have an idea.” The man laughed. Giorno didn’t know how much this man really knew about him, but it didn't seem like he was aware of the fact that the boss didn’t like meaningless conversations. He was getting annoyed. If his enemy wouldn’t make the first move, he would just have to do it himself. He had to be extremely cautious when doing so. Giorno was already at a disadvantage because he had no idea what the capabilities of the enemy’s stand were.

 

“By the way… where did that little friend of yours go? I believe his name was Guido Mista?”

 

Neither one of them moved. They weren’t panicked, just calm. A callout such as that didn’t warrant a response.

 

“Not talkin’, ey?” the hooded figure shuffled slightly closer, “Well, you don’t know where my guy is yet either, so I guess we’re even.”

 

The figure jerked his head to the right. Giorno was barely able to process everything before a sudden pain shot through his left shoulder. He flinched as the force pushed him back , not quite able to make him tumble. A vibrant red began soaking through his coat at a rapid pace.

 

He felt stupid for not anticipating a sniper. From the trajectory of the bullet, he assumed the shooter was stationed in one of the buildings on the busy street they came from. Giorno quickly moved so that he wasn’t visible from the front of the alleyway. The ache in his shoulder felt more extreme than a regular bullet wound.

 

“The bullet you were just shot with was laced with poison, I don’t think it’ll be enough to kill you but you’ll get knocked out good.” A drop of sweat dripped down Mista’s face. He would’ve shot the hooded man into smithereens by now if he could.

 

Maybe he’d finally get the chance. A sudden movement from Giorno drew his attention back to him. The blonde had thrown off his blood-soaked coat, and Mista recognised it as the signal, at least he hoped it was. What kind of signal was that? Six bullets shot through the air at lightning speed, “Sex Pistols!”

 

“Double Fantasy!”

 

Each bullet was swallowed up by a thick wall of black goo, a stand hovering behind it. It was tall with a body of metallic silver. The same muck that the black wall was made of surrounded its arms and legs. It’s eyes were covered by a ring of cloth that wrapped around it’s head. Double Fantasy’s face was round and without a nose, the only thing giving it character being a wide, hollow smile.

 

Giorno summoned Gold Experience and prepared to fight. Mista watched from behind the garbage container, though he was sure his position had been compromised when he fired his pistol. He reloaded with another round and with the help of his stand, fired a single bullet. They guided it past the wall of tar and kicked it towards the enemy.

 

Double Fantasy extended it’s arm, and the goo covering it formed yet another wall. Once again, his bullet was taken in by the black mass. “Shit.” He muttered, and leaped out from behind his hiding spot.

 

Just as he did, Double Fantasy took down it’s first wall, and the tar dribbled to the ground. The black river flooded towards the two gangsters. Mista made a u-turn and sprang on top of the thing he had previously taken cover behind. Giorno’s vision began to grow spotty, probably due to the poison coursing through his body.

 

He needed to think. Touching the substance was probably a bad idea, and so that meant physical attacks were out of the question with them being inevitably stopped by his barriers. It could also be assumed that any animal he would manage to create, if he even had enough time, would be useless as well.

 

Giorno’s mind was failing him. His thoughts were jumbling together and he could’ve sworn he was losing his footing. The effects of the poison were growing too great for him to simply ignore anymore.

 

“Boss!” Mista yelled.

 

His vision focused and he looked to his feet. The tar had a hold of him. He tried pulling himself free, but he only sank deeper with every tug. It was also taking the last of his strength. Giorno collapsed to one knee, and he heard Mista yell again.

 

“I’m fine! Focus on him, and don’t let his tar touch you!” His underboss clenched his teeth and nodded.

 

The boy could’ve sworn he heard more gunshots and fighting, but his vision was fading so he couldn’t quite see. He didn’t begin thinking about death in that moment, only where he was going. He wondered where the thing that was swallowing him up would take him. He didn’t even notice when the tar was up to his chest, his shoulders, and then his chin.

 

“Giorno!”

 

That was the last thing he heard before his ears were pulled below, and then it was silent. He had finally used his name instead of just ‘boss’, and it made him smile. Then his eyes went under, and everything was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**[??? / ???]**

 

A sudden chill made him shiver. He slowly blinked his eyes open, taking them a moment to adjust. Once the numbness of the unexpected cold wore off, he realized his mind was fuzzy and he felt faint. To keep himself from tumbling over, he took a few steps back and was met with a wall of some kind. He leaned into it for stability.

 

Giorno glanced around and was met with an unfamiliar sight. Hoards of people rushed by him, seeming as if they all had places to be. Huge skyscrapers towered around him, making him feel as small as an insect. The colorful, bright lights from the buildings hurt his eyes so he turned away.

 

The ground was damp and slushy.  _ ‘Snow,’ _ he thought. That would explain the frigid temperatures. Indeed, around him the few trees in view lay barren without their leaves. And after taking a second glance, he could see that the bodies passing him by were all bundled up in thick clothes.

 

He would have said,  _ ‘If only I hadn’t tossed my coat...’ _ but that would be useless. There was no way he could have predicted he’d be thrown into a situation such as this. And what a situation it was. The only thing he could be sure of was that he was very much alive. Also that he didn’t seem to be in any imminent danger.

 

Giorno shivered once more, this time the act was followed by a sharp pain. He winced, and his hand shot up to his shoulder. A warm sensation flowed through the gaps of his fingers, and when he brought hand back down to check, a puddle of red covered the entire surface. He was bleeding.

 

That’s when his mind momentarily cleared. He remembered the fight, Passione, Mista, and Italy. Italy… he definitely wasn’t there anymore. The ancient structures of his home had been replaced by a much more modern industrial setting.

 

“Hey um… are you alright?”

 

He turned his head and saw a blonde with pigtails looking back at him. She wore a long white sleeved jacket with a red vest. Her blue eyes held a concerned stare.  _ ‘She spoke Japanese...’ _ he thought.

 

Giorno was only able to understand the language thanks to his heritage. As much as he wanted to forget about his sorry excuse of a mother, she had carried a Japanese lineage that was passed down to him. When he was younger, he managed to learn a few words from her when she occasionally let them slip in conversation.

 

Once he was older, he realized he actually enjoyed the language and decided to pick it up. He wasn’t totally fluent, but he assumed he could hold his own in a conversation. It would be an interesting test to see if he had actually learned anything from the countless books he’d gotten through.

 

“Hello? Are you deaf or somethin’?” Another blonde, this time a boy. He had a thug sort of look to him, something Giorno was very familiar with, being the boss of a gang and all. If his blonde hair wasn’t enough, the purple sweatshirt he had on was sure to make him stand out, not that he could talk. The girl with pigtails elbowed him in the gut, “Don’t mind him, do you need help?”

 

It was then that he noticed there was more of them, a total of seven if the poison wasn’t playing tricks on his mind. Oh god he’d forgotten about the bullet. He sank further into the wall as a wave of pain hit him. He was embarrassed by how drastically it was affecting him, it was unusual.

 

“Hey he’s bleeding!”

 

“Holy shit, are you for real?”

 

“Oh god what should we do!? Uhh… AHHH!”

 

“Calm down Futaba, you’re making a scene.”

 

Giorno felt something move under his right arm and instinctively pushed away from it. He saw a boy with a fluffy head of raven hair grab his arm. He had a firm grip, but it wasn’t intimidating.

 

“Calm down, we aren’t your enemies. I know someone who can help,” He said. His voice was gentle, but to someone with Giorno’s skill of reading people, he could sense something else in it. It was that same skill that told him he wasn’t lying. Giorno rested his weight on the boy and, with the adrenaline he was running on fading, lost consciousness in the arms of complete strangers.


	2. Chapter 2

**[??? / ???]**

 

The first sensation he was aware of was a heaviness. When he opened his eyes, he half expected to see himself under a pile of bricks. Instead, he saw white. He blinked a few times before his eyes focussed, and when they did they only confirmed that he was looking at a smooth, white ceiling.

 

Giorno lifted up his head. The space he appeared to be in was relatively small, and the wall to his left was littered with strange posters and pictures, some peeling from the edges. Their reflective surfaces alerted him of a soft blue glow coming from the other side of the room. When he turned, he noticed a large screen. On the screen were images of what Giorno assumed to be x-rays.

 

In front of the x-rays was a computer, at least he thought that’s what it was. It looked very different from the last one he’d seen. The monitor was very thin and was probably very light. He stared at it hard. For the first time since he arrived, he wondered if maybe he was a lot farther away from home than he originally thought.

 

He remembered back to when he was standing in the city, outside in the cold. Giorno knew he was somewhere in Japan, and he knew that that country had stood out for being technologically driven, but was it always this modern? The giant displays and blinding lights, had it always been like  _ that _ ?

 

Giorno didn’t remember Japan very well. Sure he had lived there for a short time, but that was when he was very little. If someone had asked him to draw the layout of the apartment he had called home before he and his mother moved to Italy, he probably wouldn’t be able to do it. But he decided he could figure that whole thing out later, right now though he wanted to leave.

 

Sitting up was a challenge, but he’d been through worse. The previous agony of his shoulder wound had become nothing more than a dull throbbing. When Giorno went to feel for it, he was met with a smooth texture. He looked down and noticed his suit had been removed, revealing his bare upper body.

 

Around his shoulder was a tight bandage. It was well done, meaning someone who had medical knowledge had taken care of him. That also meant he was inside of their clinic. Giorno took another glance around, looking for his suit so he could flee from the dimly-lit room, but found nothing.

 

Now he had himself a problem. Unlike in his Italy, it was winter in the Japan he was currently stranded in. Going outside with the chilling temperatures and no shirt was probably a stupid idea, but unless he left this room he wouldn’t be able to search for the answers he needed to return home.

 

Giorno Giovanna was not against stealing, he had stolen many things in his life. If he was able to find something that would be of use to him here, he  _ would  _ take it. It did bother the blonde a bit that he would be taking something away from a person who helped him, but he had more important things to worry about.

 

Giorno needed to find a way home and fast. He wasn’t even sure if Mista was safe. That thought clawed at his gut. What if Mista had been hurt, or worse...? His underboss was no easy target, but Giorno had seen first hand in his fight against Diavolo that anyone could be eliminated given the right circumstances.

 

It wasn’t panic that drove his speed, instead it was a need for answers. But just as he was about to grab a blanket in the corner of the room and be on his merry way, the door slowly opened and in walked a woman. She wore a long white coat over a short dress. Her appearance gave off an eccentric punk atmosphere.

 

“Looks like  _ Goldilocks  _ is conscious and up to no good.” She spoke. The woman then turned and leaned her face out the door she had entered from, “the kid’s awake.”

 

As she changed her focus and walked over to him, he gave up on his grab for the blanket. Giorno glanced at the tag bouncing on her coat, learning her name was Tae Takemi. Takemi began inspecting his shoulder.

 

“You’re one lucky kid, a few more inches and you’d be dead with a bullet straight through your heart.” He watched as the dark blue haired woman poked around some more.

 

The next thing he knew, a group of bodies had joined them in the room. Giorno recognized a few of their faces as ones he’d seen before he passed out. These were the people who brought him here. He silently looked at each one of them, taking in their features. They all looked to be around his age, if not older.

 

Then the doctor woman spoke again, “I think the bandages came a bit loose… looks like I’ll have to redo them. This might hurt a bit, can you hold still?.”

 

It did hurt, but when you’ve already been shot before tens of times, broken your ribs, had your throat cut out, been infected by Purple Haze’s deadly virus, and countless other things, the aftermath of a bullet wound was nothing to Giorno. He’d known pain since he was a child, so his tolerance for it was very high.

 

“So you’re the tough type huh,  _ Goldilocks _ ?” She teased as she twisted the bandages around his wound. He hadn’t given any of them his name, but he guessed that even if Takemi knew what it was, the nickname would stay. 

 

“Can I ask where my suit is?” Giorno spoke, his question directed at the doctor.

 

“Woah, so he’s not mute.” Someone from the group responded. His statement was followed by a loud  _ ‘Ryuji!’.  _ Up until that point, no one from the group of teenagers had said a word. They had all just stood there, silent.

 

“I had my guinea pig take it to the laundromat. It was covered in blood, you’ll be able to pick it up later.” Giorno thought it wouldn’t be the appropriate time to mention that it was dry clean only. It was probably a good idea not to walk around the streets of Japan covered in blood anyways.

 

“Speaking of which, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you injured in the first place?” A brunette from the group stood forward, her short hair swaying in the process. She carried herself in a confident manor, something Giorno noted in his head. The girl’s reddish eyes attempted to see through his every move. In his entire life, not one person had ever been able to do so, and that time definitely would not be now. Once the doctor was finished with him, he stood straight and matched her confident exposition.

 

“I got into a little fight and wasn’t expecting the man to pull a gun.” He would probably have to come up with some sort of story that would explain everything, because he wasn’t going to be able to tell these kids that he was actually the boss of the most powerful gang in Italy.

 

She crossed her arms, “The argument was serious enough to the point where a man shot you, maybe with the intention of murder? What kind of fight is that??”

 

Giorno kept his calm expression. He didn’t have time to be standing around, talking to highschools that asked him about his own affairs, but he would have to put up with them for the time being. “It was over something minor really, I’ve just made a few enemies.” The blonde slit his eyes slightly, hoping she’d back off.

 

She probably wouldn’t have, if not for the boy next to her stepping in. “That’s enough with the interrogation Makoto, give him a break.” It was the same raven-haired boy that had helped him before he passed out. He chuckled and she sighed.

 

The boy walked over to Giorno and offered his hand, “It’s probably been a rough day for you, hasn’t it? My name’s Ren Amamiya by the way.”

 

There was something about this boy’s eyes that intrigued Giorno. They were soft. Just looking into them could calm anyone down. But there was something else. Something  _ deeper  _ that was hidden away beneath their dark grey color. I small fire just waiting to expand. Giorno grabbed his hand and shook it. Ren was honestly surprised by his grip. To him, the blonde’s hands felt hard, as if they’d been calloused many times.

 

“I apologize for my rude behavior, it’s nice to meet you.” Giorno said with a wide smile. The group wasn’t expecting his change in character. When he and Makoto had been having their stare-off, it felt like the room had decreased by 20 degrees.

 

Ever since dropping the strange boy off with Takemi, they didn’t know what to expect. Something about him made him seem threatening to them, but looking at him now made them feel silly, and they all relaxed. Giorno was confused when everyone in the room sighed in relief.

 

“You don’t seem like a bad guy, that’s good,” the blonde with pigtails smiled, “I’m Ann Takamaki!”

 

“Yea, guess we were all just jumping to conclusions… What’s up dude, the name’s Ryuji. Ryuji Sakamoto.” Giorno nodded at the two with a small smile. So far, both of his smiles had been fake, but none of them seemed to notice.

 

All of the faces he was looking at now were completely new. A tall, blue haired man approached him. He raised his hands and put them together to form a square with his thumb and pointer fingers.

 

“Such a beautiful face… would you allow me to paint it?” He said, examining Giorno’s every feature.

 

“Paint my face…?” Giorno was a little surprised by the boy suddenly approaching him with a request like that. It actually wasn’t the first time someone had asked to paint him, but he wasn’t expecting someone to ask him in a place like this.

 

“Sorry about him, he’s an artist and can be a little… passionate sometimes...” A girl giggled.

 

She stood in the back and had short, poofy light brown hair. Her voice was light, almost angelic. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Haru Okumura.”

 

The tall boy suddenly snapped out of his trance. “Ah! Pardon my manners, I’m Yusuke Kitagawa. I’m a second year art student at Kosei-”

 

“He doesn’t need to know all that Inari.” Giorno looked towards a ginger in the crowd, and when their eyes met she squeaked. The short girl took cover behind Ren and peeked her head out. Ren gently nudged her forward. It took her a second, but she eventually spoke.

 

“I-I’m Futaba Sakura, uh… hello.” She muttered, and then slowly stepped back and disappeared. She seemed shy.

 

Last but not least was the girl who had challenged him earlier. She approached him and stuck out her hand, just like Ren had done. The brunette still appeared confident, but she wasn’t hostile anymore. Giorno took it and made amends. His initial and current perception of her was that she was a respectable woman, and rightfully cautious of him. “I think I started us off on the wrong foot, sorry. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Makoto Nijima.”

 

“No, your reaction is understandable. If I was in your place I would be wary as well. It’s nice to meet you.” Part of Giorno’s hospitality was manipulative. By befriending these strangers, he was hoping he would be able to uncover some clues that would help explain his situation.

 

That was when a strange voice caught his attention. He didn’t recognize is as one coming from any of the people he had just met. Giorno couldn’t quite hear what they said, as the voice sounded muffled, but he knew he heard it.

 

Ren shifted his attention to the dark bag he had been carrying. Giorno was able to see what looked like a logo on the side of it, and was barely able to see the tiny words that wrote “Shujin Academy.”  _ ‘It seems that that’s the school most of them attend...’ _

 

The teenager pulled out a black cat with bright blue eyes. “This is Morgana, he said he wanted to say hi too.”

 

“You had a cat in your school bag?” Giorno asked. As soon as he finished the sentence the cat started squirming.

 

“I’m not a cat!” It said. Wait, it just spoke, didn’t it…? He stared at the animal.

 

“What? Do you not like  _ cats  _ or somethin?” Ryuji asked when he noticed Giorno’s caution and slightly shocked expression. The animal made even more noise.

 

“No it’s just… Is this normal?” The blonde questioned.

 

“Oh his freakout? Yea he doesn’t like it when people call him a cat.” Ryuji shrugged, clearly knowing that just saying the word angered the feline. Giorno misinterpreted this as ‘Oh yea, him talking? That’s normal’, since the other boy didn’t seem to overreact to it. Maybe that was just something that happened in the strange world he was brought to. It would still be weird getting used to talking animals.

 

“Ok  _ Goldilocks  _ is good to go so you kids should head out, you know I don’t like pets in the clinic.” Takemi said as she tapped the clipboard she was holding to her shoulder. “By the way, you need any pain meds?” She offered.

 

He didn’t know how legal that was, but either way he declined. Giorno could just use Gold Experience to heal his wound later. After that, they were basically pushed out of the clinic by the doctor.

 

Before they walked out the door, Ren handed Giorno a grey sweater that he pulled out of his school bag. Apparently he had stopped by his place on the way back from the laundromat to grab it. The blonde thanked him sincerely and put it on.

 

When Giorno climbed up the steps away from the clinic with the rest of them, he was greeted by a small street. Compared to the city he had seen earlier, this place was very quiet. It almost seemed like an entirely new part of the world, a hidden sight to the eyes of most. He liked how calm it was. Barely anyone roamed the area.

 

The teenagers enthusiastically urged him to follow them. Giorno wanted to refuse and bid them farewell, but he found himself being swept up in their energy. They were a rowdy bunch, and to the boy’s surprise, he didn’t mind it much. In a way, it felt familiar.

 

He tried to rationalize the detour with himself, hoping to make it worth his time. Though he was wearing a sweatshirt, it still wouldn’t be enough to last him very long in these temps. He wanted to at least wait unit he was able to retrieve the addition of his regular attire to be on his way. Plus, he still thought he could get some easy answers out of the kids if he worded his sentences correctly. And luckily for him, that was Giorno’s specialty.

 

It wasn’t very long until they stopped. After only a couple turns away from their last destination, he stood facing a modest structure. It appeared to be an establishment, the board above the place reading “LeBlanc”. Even with the sign on the door signifying it was closed for the day, they simply walked right in. Giorno paused for a moment before following them. He was immediately hit with the smell of coffee.

 

Recently, he had become very familiar with its aroma. Sometimes it was the only thing that helped him stay awake, since he didn’t really get very much sleep. Giorno was always one to sleep early and wake early. He enjoyed watching the sunrise and rousing with the new day’s light. That part hadn’t changed. What did change after taking on the role of Passione’s boss was that he no longer woke up to the sun, because he had never gotten any sleep to begin with.

 

The place seemed small, but gave off a very pleasant vibe. There were comfy booths on the left side of the room, with colorful lights hanging over them, and on the right was a long counter with shelves stacked full of coffee behind it. There appeared to be stairs near the back of the coffee place leading to another floor of the building, but he couldn’t get a good enough glance to confirm it.

 

A dark-haired man came out from a small area behind the counter. He was older, and wore a dark apron on top of a light pink buttoned shirt. When he saw Giorno, he stopped to fondle with his glasses, “Another new kid?”

 

Ren walked over to him while everyone else sat down at one of the booths or a chair next to the counter. Giorno stood standing and focussed his attention to Ren and the other man, who he assumed was the owner of the establishment he was in. Once the raven-haired teen finished explaining the situation, the old man sighed. He looked at Giorno, “I’m Sojiro Sakura, I’m the manager here and this kid’s guardian for the time being,” he said, gesturing at Ren, “So... do you like coffee?”

 

“I don’t have any money on me actually.” He smiled slightly.

 

“You can pay me back later, so what do you want?” Sojiro said as he began preparing a cup.

 

“Well, I’ll make sure to take you up on your offer then,” his smile grew in amusement, “Can you make a Caffè Latte?”

 

“‘Into Italian coffee, huh? Of course I can.” Sojiro huffed with assurance.

 

Ann spoke up from her spot at one of the booths, “Boss makes the best coffee ever!” Her smile lit up the room. “He’s also teaching Ren everything he knows!”

 

“Woah hey now, I’d never give away my secrets to a brat like him.” He chuckled, “But he’s not all bad, he’s got a good teacher. Hey kid, why don’t you show everyone your improvement?” Sojiro said, tossing Ren a green apron. Ren smiled, a hidden confidence barely visible, and took his place behind the counter to help his guardian.

 

“Hey, come sit down man.” Ryuji’s voice drew his attention away from Sojiro and Ren, and instead to the rest of the group. Ryuji was patting the empty space next to him. Giorno silently moved to sit down next to him.

 

“So uh… wait did we ever ask for your name?”

 

Haru placed a finger to her lips and thought for a moment, “I don’t remember ever hearing him tell us.”

 

Yusuke nodded in agreement, “Well it seems introductions aren’t completely over yet. So, what’s your name?”

 

For a moment, everything in the small cafe seemed to stop. All eyes were on the young boy with golden locks. It did take him a second too long to reply, but he needed that time to think. He hoped no one had noticed his small pause. Giorno knew it would be dumb to give up his real name in a situation like this. He didn’t know what sort of world he was in, but he didn’t want these kids to be able to have any sort of information on him if it was possible.

 

He’d known since the beginning what he would say, because it was the safest option, but he still didn’t really want to admit it. The name harborded many memories he wished he could forget, but it was moments like this that proved you could never truly escape from your past. With a deep breath and a friendly smile, he spoke the name of a man long since dead.

 

“I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, my name is Haruno Shiobana.”

 

“What a pretty name.” Makoto smiled back at him from across the table. No one, not even his own mother, had ever referred to the birthname he had been given him as ‘pretty’. The irony in some total stranger doing so almost made him want to laugh, but instead he nodded at her in gratitude. It was a strange feeling.

 

Futaba pulled out a small rectangular device from one of her pockets and began quickly tapping her thumbs on it. Giorno stared curiously at her doing so, and when she noticed him she jumped slightly. “U-Um… Do you need something?”

 

Out of pure interest, without thinking Giorno asked, “What is that?”

 

Everyone around him started laughing. Futaba just sat there dumbfounded. “Are you being serious?”

 

“No way Futaba! There’s no way he-”

 

With a deadpan tone and expression, the blonde said, “I am entirely serious.”

 

Everyone’s laughter faded. Giorno looked at everyone’s shocked faces and wondered if he said something he shouldn’t have. Futaba slammed her fists onto the table, “Have you never seen a cell phone before?!”

 

“Oh, that’s what it is?” Giorno looked at it again. Well, that within itself sort of proved that he was in some sort of futuristic world, because the last time he had seen a cell phone... it hadn’t looked like that. “I do have a Nokia-”

 

“Please God, tell me it’s not one that flips open.” Futaba cut him off, flinging up her hands in a praying motion.

 

“It is actu-” Before he could even finish, Futaba moved to tightly clutch his hands within hers, “Oh you poor boy.”

 

“Have you really never seen a phone like this?” Ren walked over, coffee and all, and handed everyone their cups. Giorno brought the drink to his mouth and took a sip. With just one taste, he could tell that Sojiro was no joke. His body instantly felt warmer and more lively. It was truly a great cup of coffee. Sojiro didn’t need Giorno’s words to let him know he enjoyed it, the man could tell by the boy’s body expression alone. The manager slowly walked to the back of Leblanc with a content look on his face. After taking another quick sip of his Caffè Latte, Giorno set down his cup.

 

‘’Hell, I’m poor, but not THAT poor. ” Ryuji stated after a large sample of his drink.

 

Futaba quickly removed herself from her sitting position and planted herself right next to the braided blonde, “Here, I’ll show you how it works.” She said, setting the device on the table in front of them. He watched as she flicked her finger across the screen, revealing rows of small boxes which she called “apps”. Giorno watched intently as she quickly gave him the rundown of modern cell phones.

 

“But where is the keypad?” He asked.

 

She smirked and tapped on the icon that he learned was for the messaging app. After a few more taps she arrived at a chat log, and pressed her thumb eagerly on a small row near the bottom of the screen. When she did, a keypad popped up.

 

Giorno leaned in, and was fairly sure he wasn’t able to prevent his eyes from widening. All of the letters and numbers had their own separate buttons, eliminating the need to press down multiple times for one command. There were also many other symbols hidden away behind another key.

 

Makoto chuckled, “You’re just like a little kid.”

 

That made Giorno correct his posture. He didn’t like being seen as childish, but he couldn’t deny that he technically still was one. It wasn’t embarrassing in this situation, more so that it was a reminder. He had to establish a connection with these people in case it would be useful later on, but couldn’t allow himself to be caught up in their hustle.

 

“That’s funny... I swear I remember you being a bit of a clutz with your phone as well, Ms. Student Council President.” Ren took Futaba’s old spot at the booth and lightly teased his upperclassman for her lack of skills when it came to technology. She huffed, but the corners of her mouth raised a bit.

 

“Actually Haruno, how old  _ are  _ you?” Haru questioned.

 

It seemed like a harmless question, “15, but I’ll be turning 16 very soon-”

 

“ **What** !?” The whole room erupted once more, and he again wondered if he had said something he shouldn’t have.

 

“Are you for real?! I thought you were at least the same age as Makoto and Haru… but you’re younger than  _ me _ !?” Ryuji yelled. He was a bit too loud for someone like Giorno, but he kind of reminded him of Mista.

 

“That would make you one of the youngest people here...” Yusuke pointed out.

 

“Wow Haruno, you look very mature for your age. You even took a bullet to the shoulder and barely flinched when Takemi was patching you up...” Haru smiled warmly.

 

“Holy shit… you’re right,” Ryuji muttered and looked at the fellow blonde, “Dude what even are you??”

 

Ren changed the subject, knowing that it probably wouldn’t go anywhere past that, “Do you go to school around here?”

 

Now the questions were starting to get a bit dangerous. Information about his thrown away name and age were fine, but a question with an answer that could directly link him to something wasn’t something Giorno was about to give them. “I actually don’t go to school anymore.” Luckily he could still be vague about his response.

 

Makoto raised a brow, “And why is that?” Ren gave her a look, but her question lingered in the air.

 

“It was so I could achieve my dream.” He paused for a moment, unable to help himself from thinking about the past. By the time he had made it to his first year of highschool, Giorno didn’t need to rely on the gangster’s, his hero’s, help anymore. The people around him saw him as a reliable young boy, someone they could count on. Sometimes people would take advantage of his friendliness, and he’d let them. Giorno always got them back for it though, or at least something in return.

 

It wasn’t the worst experience of his life, but as the years passed he grew more and more bored of the environment. He felt like he could be doing something more, and couldn’t sit around waiting to finish his education. There were things happening around him that he just couldn’t let slide any longer. That was when Giorno officially deemed school useless, and simply stopped going.

 

“And did you fulfill that dream?”

 

Giorno smiled genuinely for the first time around the group, he couldn’t help it, “I did.” Makoto sighed.

 

It was an odd feeling knowing that you had accomplished your life’s objective at such a young age, but even still, the boy was far from content. Passione still had a long way to go as an organization, and now that he was aware of other problems besides the drug trade, Giorno was constantly made busy. He looked forward to the day when it would become a gang that could fully support the people of Italy.

 

“Oh Haruno, by the way,” Giorno looked at Yusuke, who was once again viewing him through the box his fingers made, “You have something in your hair.”

 

“Hm?” He reached back for his braid and pulled it over his shoulder. Little flakes of red made themselves known on his golden locks. Dried blood. Everyone grew silent at the sight of it. For a moment it seemed like they had forgotten how they came to meet the boy in the first place, at least up until then. “Do you have a bathroom where I could quickly wash this off?” His face remained unreadable.

 

“Down that way, to your right.” Ren pointed to a spot behind him.

 

“Excuse me a moment.” The blonde politely maneuvered his way away from the booth and began walking further into the building. When he was nearly to the restroom, something on the wall caught his eye. A calendar.

 

Giorno was better at listening and speaking Japanese than he was reading it, but basic things like the months and seasons were simple to remember.  _ ‘December...definitely explains the snow,’ _ he thought, but what he saw next made him stop dead in his tracks. If the calendar was correct, which he didn’t know why it wouldn’t be, the year he was currently in… was 2016.

 

He quickened his pace to the bathroom and silently locked the door behind him. Giorno was thrown off by the revelation. The idea of being 14 years in the future would certainly surprise anyone. But it was, at the very least, a good feeling to finally get a few answers.

 

He meticulously undid his perfect braid and brushed out his hair with his fingers. The blonde then turned on the sink in front of him and dipped his blood-covered ends under the flowing water. After a bit of scrubbing, the small traces of red had completely vanished. Grabbing a towel, he dried his hair and turned off the water. Giorno allowed himself to take a deep breath, realizing that this moment in the bathroom was the first time he could confidently say he was alone. It would be the perfect time to summon Gold Experience to heal the bullet wound in his shoulder.

 

He gently slipped off the sweatshirt that Ren had given him earlier and set it on the edge of the sink. Once he was sure it wouldn’t fall, he glanced around to look for something that Gold Experience could use. The bathroom was very clean and minimalistic, so it was hard to find something he could take. After a moment his eyes landed on a bottle of soap.

 

Giorno unscrewed the cap and washed it off under the sink, just to be sure. It looked to be a good size and would fit his shoulder fine. Once the cap was dried off, the blonde summoned his stand.

 

Except it didn’t appear.

 

He swung his head around in all directions, looking for his stand, but it was nowhere to be seen. An uncommon wave of panic flooded over him. Ever since he became aware of his stand’s existence, he had never been without it. Having Gold Experience was comforting in a way. Now when he couldn’t summon it, his whole body felt as if a part of him was missing.

 

It was a problem for more than just a physical or emotional reason. As far as Giorno knew, he was up against a decently powerful stand user that threatened his life. Without Gold Experience, the don was practically defenseless. His grip on the soap cap tightened.

 

Giorno was starting to regret neglecting Buccellati’s concerns, but he made his choice and couldn’t do anything about it now.  _ ‘There has to be some sort of reason as to why I can’t summon Gold Experience… does it have to do with the new world I’m in, or did the poison have some sort of affect I was unaware of?’ _

 

He was so deep in thought he almost forgot about his surroundings. It was only when the voices from outside the door caught his attention that he remembered he was in a futuristic Japanese bathroom. Giorno was hardly given any time to think in this new world, as new affairs seemed to pop up rapidly. The boy tried to release all of his anxiety through a heavy sigh, and slid on the sweatshirt once again. He decided to keep the cap in his pocket and hope nobody cared about it’s disappearance. Instead of simply walking out the door, he stuck his ear up against it.

 

The voices from the group of teens that filled up Leblanc had gotten louder while he was cleaning his hair, and he just wanted to see if he could pick up on anything before exiting. He didn’t want to interrupt their conversation.

 

“Oh shit was that really today?” Giorno recognised the voice as being Ryuji’s.

 

“Yes! And it’s getting late, we have to hurry since the deadline for Shido is quickly approaching. We won’t have time after that.” Was that sentence was from the strange talking cat, Morgana? He was still confused as to how a cat that spoke was normal.

 

“What are we supposed to do about Haruno?” Haru questioned, a bit of concern seeping through.

 

Morgana grumbled, “Sojiro can keep an eye on him, this shouldn’t take long anyways. We already found out where the guy was last time.”

 

Giorno didn’t know what they were talking about, but it sounded interesting. It seemed like they had an important place to be. There was a moment of silence before Ren spoke up, “I think that should be fine, we did promise Mishima we’d get this done.”

 

It was then that Giorno walked out. His hair was still damp so he hadn’t tied it back into a braid. It swayed across his upper back as he walked back to his seat. “Sorry that took so long, did I miss anything?” the blonde said with a smile.

 

A few members of their group stiffened, but Ann jumped up, “Woah, Haruno! Your hair is so pretty and full!” She ran up to him and looked like she wanted to touch it, but refrained. Instead she looked him over with just her eyes. He was glad she kept her distance, he really didn’t enjoy people invading his personal space.

 

She reminded him of Trish when she started rambling on about the newest look or item. Fashion must be one of the girl’s passions. “Do you think?” He smiled, and she nodded enthusiastically.

 

Someone cleared their throat and Ann’s eyes widened. She stuttered, “O-Oh but um… we actually have some place to be so…! Ahaha...” He faked a look of mild confusion, acting as if he hadn’t been listening in on them just moments earlier.

 

In response, Ren picked up where she left off, “It’s just a small errand, we’ll be back shortly. You can wait here where it’s warm and we can pick up your suit from the laundromat on the way back.” It was his turn to smile.

 

“Do you want me to come with? It’s the least I could do after you all helped me earlier.” The don said, trying to push his luck. He already knew the answer he’d receive, but he was growing more curious about his “rescuers” every moment. Maybe this detour would prove to be more beneficial than he originally thought.

 

“Thank you for the offer but we can handle it. You should take it easy for now, seeing as you’re injured.” Makoto single handedly ended the conversation there. After Ren let Sojiro, who was washing dishes, know that they’d be gone, the group walked out the door in a bit of a hurry.

 

Giorno waited for about ten seconds, then glanced over his shoulder to see that Sojiro was still going at it with plates and cups. Since the manager wasn’t paying attention, he gracefully moved towards the door. It worked for him once, so he leaned his head into the door and listened carefully. The boy was surprised to hear them all still outside.

 

Before he could make out what they were saying, a strange and intense feeling hit him. It was something he had never felt before. It was like he was being pulled from all directions, his vision growing distorted and fuzzy. The room around him warped and twisted. Everything went red.

  
  


Not even a few moments later, Sojiro placed his last cup neatly away to dry. The older man walked away from the sink and dried his hands with a small towel, making his way around to the counter. He immediately noticed that the strange new blonde kid that his daughter and her group of wanted criminals had brought in was missing. He let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“Hoo boy… here we go again.”

 

* * *

 

**[??? / ???]**

 

It was only red for a moment. As swiftly as the feeling came, it went. The occurrence left him a bit disoriented, but Giorno quickly recovered. He found himself standing in the middle of nowhere once more. This new place directly opposed the bustle and brightness of Tokyo. The blonde was surrounded by an empty darkness. A bright red glow illuminated off of parts of the walls around him. On the ground below him were hard tiles. They seemed cracked and worn, but sturdy enough to support his weight.

 

Giorno heard voices again, and glanced around the newly discovered corner to his left. A bit of a ways away from him stood 8 figures, one being noticeably smaller than the others. They all wore extravagant outfits with accent colors ranging all over the color spectrum. Some aspects of the designs were comical, but other parts were sharp and precise. They stood strong and serious.

 

Giorno wasn’t a stupid man. He realized right away that the masked individuals he was looking at had matching features to the ones that he met an hour or so ago. Haru’s bouncy hair or Ann’s pigtails were prime examples of dead giveaways. The outfits did confuse him though. He looked down at himself and saw the same grey sweatshirt he was wearing back in Leblanc. When had they had time to change, and what was the purpose of doing so?

 

He blinked for a single second, and then they were gone. Giorno sprung away from his hiding spot and to the area the others had previously occupied. The space opened up and it was a lot easier to see. Thanks to that he noticed a set of stairs that lead further down into the strange place, and at the bottom of those stairs was some sort of vehicle.

 

The blonde leaped down the stairway after it. He didn’t know what would happen to him if he lost sight of the masked teenagers, or if he’d even be able to get out without them. But trying to keep up with a moving vehicle was no easy task, even if it wasn’t going considerably fast. After a while of running he’d basically lost sight of it entirely, navigating solely thanks to the loud sound it made. Giorno could have sworn he’d noticed movement out of the corners of his eyes multiple times, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the strange car he was tailing.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, and his stamina being nearly at it’s limit, the sounds of the vehicle ceased. He slowed and found himself looking into a room. Previously the walls had stayed systematically rectangular and thin, but this new space opened up.

 

The large object he had been following disappeared, leaving only the group he’d come in with. Giorno slipped himself behind a corner and tried to steady his exhausted breaths, keeping a watchful eye on the room as he did so.

 

There was a new man with them now, but his apparel was quite normal. His bright yellow eyes stood out against the dark clothes he was wearing. The man seemed angry and stood a distance away from the rest of them, and began talking. Giorno couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it didn’t matter anyway. The kids didn’t give him much time to speak.

 

What happened next made Giorno’s eyes widen. Ren slowly lifted his hand up to the mask he was wearing. A small blue flame ignited from his fingers when they made contact. The flame grew until it fully engulfed the entirety of the mask. With a confident cry from the raven-haired boy, a large creature materialized from the flames.

 

Massive black wings flapped, holding up a being with a top hat looking head and a red suit. In a way it resembled a man, but what he was looking at wasn’t something human. Giorno couldn’t see much of it from the front since he was behind them, but he swore he saw a wide, devilish smirk made completely from flames.

 

_ ‘A stand…?’ _

 

Ren pulled at his crimson gloves and issued another remark. Ryuji and Ann stepped forward, while the others moved back. Two more large figures appeared next to the two blondes. To Ryuji’s side stood a skeletal being in a pirate getup, standing upon a hovering ship. Its split red cape flapped violently even though there wasn’t any opening that a breeze could flow through. Next, Giorno saw Ann’s “stand”. It was very feminine with a long, flowing velvet dress, bearing roses and thorns at the waste. The thorns connected to man-like beings with metallic hearts for heads.

 

The yellow-eyed man that faced them began to shake, and then he became something else. Was this  _ another  _ “stand”? The three teenagers attacked it effortlessly, as if they’d done this all a million times before. None of the attacks the enemy dealt seemed to land, or at least hardly made an impact. It was over before it even started.

 

With one final attack from Ren, the thing reverted back to his human form. He sat on the ground, defeated. The teens talked to him for a moment, and then he looked up. The man smiled with tears streaming down his face. Giorno stood still, too many thoughts to count going through his mind. The feeling in the room completely changed. Just seconds ago it was violent and heavy, but now everything felt calm. Next, the man dissolved and was gone.

 

Giorno heard laugher and saw Ryuji wrap an arm around Ren. They congratulated each other on another successful win. All of them looked incredibly close in that moment, each teen being a piece of something that could never be separated. A pang of some sort of emotion touched Giorno’s heart as he watched them.

 

He recognised their bond as one that formed from individual hardship. Giorno didn’t yet know what that hardship was, but it brought them all together. They needed one another. He thought about his friends back home, especially the ones he almost lost all those months ago. In a way, both groups were similar.

 

Giorno sunk further around the corner he had been hiding behind the entire time. The masked teens turned away from the room and started walking away. He was glad they didn’t see him. Giorno silently followed the rowdy crew from a distance as they walked down the path they originally descended from. Now that he was closer, he could finally make out their conversation.

 

“That didn’t take long at all, did it?” Ryuji smiled and crossed his arms together.

 

“The Phantom Thieves have really gotten strong!” The smallest figure of the group purred. Giorno didn’t really understand it, but he assumed that it was Morgana, the talking cat from earlier.

 

Haru chuckled, “I just hope we’re strong enough for Shido.”

 

“I’m sure we are! We have Joker as our leader after all!” Ann gleamed and nudged Ren’s shoulder.

 

The boy smiled, “You’re too nice Panther, but it’s me that’s always relying on all of you.”

 

Then Yusuke chimed in, “You’re too modest leader.”

 

“Yea right, we’re the ones who- wait what’s that?” Makoto’s praise was cut off and she looked straight ahead. The others followed her line of vision and stiffened up. Giorno tried to see what they were looking at but doing so might compromise his position and he couldn’t risk it. Ren reached down and put a hand over his gun, ready. Whatever was approaching them was apparently being seen as a threat.

 

Giorno heard it before he saw it. A familiar voice that made his heart stop momentarily. Maybe he was hearing things? No, Giorno Giovanna wasn’t like that. He was a boy who stuck to the facts, never letting emotion dictate his decisions… right? Yes, this voice was one he  _ wanted  _ to hear, but was it really there? Ren quickly and elegantly unhooked the gun from its holster on his waist. In one quick movement he had it aimed and ready to fire. 

 

He was willing to chance the possibility that the teenagers would spot him, he had to. Maybe this was one of the few times that his heart spoke over his logic, but maybe that was necessary in certain cases. Giorno flung himself away from the corner of the wall he had been closely sticking beside, out of the shadows that hid him. Giorno started walking forward, holding himself back so not to run.

 

“Help help! P-Please help...!” The small thing spoke in its identifiable high-pitched voice. It was frantically flying towards the group, not having seen Giorno through its teary vision. Of course the Japanese kids couldn’t understand what it was saying. It was speaking in Italian. Ren wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was friend or foe.

 

Ren slid his pointer finger gently over the trigger, considering the possibilities in his head. It didn’t seem dangerous, but he had no idea what it was saying. The small creature was just that, small, but in a place like Mementos, you had to be on your toes at all times.

 

“I… He’s hurt!! He’s hurt and h-he needs help, please!!” It grew ever closer and the screams that came from it only got louder. Of course, Giorno was the only one who understood anything it was saying. It seemed like the raven-haired boy misinterpreted the cries of help as something else, and steadied his finger on the trigger. His face stayed perfectly calm, calculating how to perfectly hit such a small target. Giorno didn’t know if he was as good a shot than Mista, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t miss.

 

“Stop!”

 

The kids turned to look at him, shocked. Giorno stared at Ren with a look more angry than he should’ve let slide. He eventually put down his gun, “Haruno?”

 

“What the heck are you doing here!?” Futaba shrieked.

 

“Arrggg…! How many times have we accidentally sucked someone in here!?” Ann cried.

 

“Have you been following us this whole time?”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Instead of addressing their comments, he simply walked right through them. Everyone stopped what they were doing the second he was close to them. Time seemed to slow as they watched him move, his beautiful undone hair flowing behind him like a golden streak. The look on his face was indescribable.

 

They felt it… the overwhelming presence that he had. It was the first time he radiated such an energy. It was a dominant force that shut them all up instantaneously. Honestly, the boy in that moment scared them.

 

It was hard to imagine a 15 year old kid having such a commanding aura. Up until that point, Ren was the strongest boy they knew. He may be normally reserved, but once he donned the mask and entered the metaverse, he was a different person entirely. Ren was able to effortless direct each one of the teens to the perfect course of action, and always served as a pillar of guidance they could turn to. But now, their leader didn’t seem like the most dominating one in the room anymore.  _ He  _ did.

 

The blonde walked over to the small, crying creature. It finally recognised him, “Gio…. Giorno!!” It said and began to sob harder, flying close to the boy and hugging his cheek. He reached his hand up to it and slowly rubbed it.

 

“Number 5...” The speechless masked teenagers saw him smile in relief for a moment, not understanding what he said. That smile immediately dissolved into something cold. A few of them shivered when they saw it. They didn’t know how the sweet boy who didn’t know about cell phones from earlier could suddenly look like this.

 

In a low voice that they could barely recognize, the blonde spoke to the creature, “Take me to him. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Speaking of long... holy shit this was almost 8k words... omg....  
> Also I swear I won't abandon this fic so if it takes a long time to update it doesn't mean I discontinued it or anything. But it might mean I died... oh well :)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Thanks for reading!! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the incredibly long delay haha, quarantine is very hectic! I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times!
> 
> No matter how long it takes I swear I will finish this fic!! Thank you for your patience <3

**[??? / December 2016]**

 

The Thieves didn’t know what they were saying, but as soon as the small metallic creature flew away with Haruno quickly behind it, they ran off after them. The thing in front was still wailing and saying stuff that couldn’t be understood.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Ryuji was the first one to break the silence as they were running. Everyone else had been too scared to do so beforehand. Up until that point, the Haruno they knew seemed to be a very kind, if not odd, boy. But he had shown himself to be a completely different person.

 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” Yusuke muttered.

 

“Was he really following us the whole time? I had no clue!”

 

“Me neither,” Futaba grumbled, sounding frustrated. “He didn’t show up on my radar at all.”

 

“How is that possible…?”

 

Giorno knew the masked teenagers were following him, but he could deal with them later. Number 5 kept sobbing and rambling on until he made a sudden curve. They hadn’t been sprinting for very long.  _ ‘I must have somehow ran right past him on the way here...’  _ Giorno thought.

 

“Th-There he is!!” Number 5 cried.

 

Giorno stopped when he saw him, unknowingly giving the kids tailing him enough time to catch up. “Another one!?” Futaba screamed.

 

“Mista!” the blonde yelled as he ran to him. From what Giorno saw, the man didn’t look mortally wounded, just a bullet wound to his right side. Mista’s body was propped up against the wall with his gun still in hand. A small line of blood flowed from his parted lips all the way down to his chin. His face was scrunched up in pain. Giorno kneeled down next to him. Mista’s breathing was a bit strained but otherwise normal. There was no need to worry any longer.

 

“Is… Is he going to be alright!?” The gunman’s stand asked frantically.

 

Going back and forth between Italian and Japanese was frankly annoying. “Of course he will,” Giorno said, “come on Mista, wake up.” The blonde cupped his hands around his body guard’s cheeks and lightly shook him. After that and a few gentle slaps, Mista groaned a curse.

 

He opened his eyes a bit, “Giorno? ...Shit.” Mista brought his hand up to rub his eyes.

 

“Damn you… so you got sent here too, huh?” Giorno sighed and removed his hands from the other boy's face. He had a lot to think about.

 

“Of course. Wherever you go I’ll never be far behind. That’s a part of my job contract, isn’t it?” He smiled slightly before his face turned into one of horror, “Oh my God… Buccellati is going to kill me...”

 

“No, I’ll be taking the blame for this one. I let my guard down.”

 

Mista sat up a bit more, continuing to rely on the wall behind him for support. That’s when he saw the strangers standing directly in front of him just a ways back. On instinct, the man mustered up enough strength to push Giorno towards the wall to his left, using one outstretched arm as a barrier between his boss and the others. He gripped his gun tightly and pointed it at them.

 

In response, the boy in the center of the group, one wearing a white mask, grabbed for his gun as well. The others around him tensed up. Mista knew he couldn’t get them all at once, but he’d at least kill enough to make things easier for Giorno.

 

But before anything could ensue, Giorno wrapped a hand around the tip of his pistol. Mista looked over to him, watching as the blonde started shaking his head. The gunman was about to protest, but a stern look from his boss made him lower his weapon. He listened as Giorno said something he couldn’t understand to the group standing just feet away. His face was serious. The white-masked boy hesitated for a moment, but proceeded to put away his gun.

 

“They won’t hurt us, so I expect for you to do the same. They might be our ticket back home.” Giorno’s look pierced him. It was one he couldn’t refute. Mista looked at the group in front of them again. They looked surprisingly young. He sighed.

 

“I have no idea what’s going on...”

 

“I’ll try to explain as much as I can later, but first we need to get ourselves out of this situation.” Giorno hoisted his underboss up. Mista let out a small groan.

 

“Can’t you just heal me already?” He muttered.

 

The blonde responded, “I tried summoning Gold Experience earlier but nothing happened.”

 

“What?” Mista yelped, “Why can’t you? I can summon the Pistols just fine!”

 

Giorno stopped for a moment and looked at Number 5, who stayed close to Mista. His gunman had most likely been shot by the same shooter. It now seemed like the poison couldn’t have been the factor that prevented him from calling upon his stand. Out of curiosity, Giorno tried again.

 

“Gold Experience!” A bright golden glow blinded everyone for a split second, and suddenly a new figure appeared. The Thieves were stunned.

 

“Haruno has a persona!?” Makoto yelled.

 

Ryuji’s mouth hung wide, “Holy shit dude!”

 

Giorno sighed with relief, ignoring the others’ shocked remarks. The reason he couldn’t summon his stand beforehand was still a mystery, but one that he would have to solve some other time. He set Mista down gently and reached into his sweater pocket. The soap cap that he snuck away earlier was still resting gently against the fabric. Giorno grabbed it and placed it against his friend’s wound. Mista gripped the younger boy’s upper arm for stability as the cap began to change shape.

 

The group of teens stared in wonder as the object melted against the wound, molding into skin and fusing with the abrasion. They saw the man’s face scrunch up in pain, and he squeezed the braided blonde’s arm tightly. The 15-year-old they knew as “Haruno” didn’t flinch once, his face remaining concentrated as the new golden figure beside him placed its finishing touches on the action.

 

Once the procedure was done, Mista exhaled deeply and thanked him. Giorno helped him to his feet and both of their stands dissipated. The two of them turned to look to the masked figures in front of them, standing side by side.

 

“So, what the hell do we do with these clowns?” Mista asked, brushing the dirt off of his pants.

 

“We might be able to use them,” Giorno responded back with his flawless Italian, “play nice with them, will you?”

 

Giorno took a step forward. These kids had now seen the abilities of his stand, and were aware of Mista’s presence as well. It was useless to lie about himself any further, “It appears I have some explaining to do.”

 

“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it...” Yusuke’s face was tight. In fact, as Giorno looked around, the rest of the Thieves had guarded expressions as well under their masks.

 

Ren stepped forward to match Giorno. His posture was straight and confident. The fire the blonde had seen resting deep within his eyes was fully shining through now, “Why don’t we go back to Leblanc and discuss things there?” Before Giorno could agree, Ren continued, “But first,” the raven-haired boy pointed, “your friend needs to dispose of that gun. It’s not a fake, is it?”

 

Mista understood what he was talking about even with the language barrier, “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving my gun, Giorno. Over my dead body.”

 

The blonde sighed, “Unfortunately, nobody would be able to convince him to comply with those terms, and yes, the gun is real. He has a bit of an emotional attachment to it, you see. But for your comfort, and as a sign we mean no harm, I assure you he will be removing the bullets and fully concealing it when we leave this place.”

Giorno turned to Mista, “Empty it.”

 

“That’s a terrible idea, you know that?” The gunman sounded annoyed, “Look, I know I forgot to mention this earlier, but I didn’t come here alone.” He saw Giorno’s eyes widen slightly, and then continued, “After you got sucked down and I kept fighting in that alley, I managed to find an opening in that cloaked bastard’s goo. I lept for him, and that was when his sniper friend got my stomach.I ended up getting stuck just like you did, but luckily I was still able to grab onto the goop guy and I pulled him down with me.”

 

“So he’s here with us?”

 

“Yea,” the man said, fiddling with his revolver, “Now do you understand why it’s a stupid idea to walk around unloaded?”

 

The boss had not considered that the stand user that was after them could have had his own power used against him. It was best to assume that this man was unaware of their whereabouts, and even if he had followed them, they should return back to the city environment instead of staying here.

 

This strange place of blacks and reds seemed to be the only area thus far that he knew of where the use of stands was possible. He hoped that, if that fact stayed consistent, meant if the cloaked Stand user followed them out, he as well would be unable to use Double Fantasy and they’d be left with only weapons or a hands-on means of combat.

 

Giorno was, admittingly, not incredibly strong with his fists. Because of this, in the past months since becoming the boss of Passione he had been training himself to improve on such things. A few months was not nearly enough time for any substantial improvements though. Without his stand, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to hold his own against the man after them. Thanks to the cloak he wore, his body shape was relatively unknown.

 

In the case of a shoot-out however, Mista most certainly had the upper hand. With or without the help of Sex Pistols, the man was a pristine shot. It was a risk for him to be without his bullets, that was undoubtable, but it was two against one. Giorno would be able to get Mista enough time to fill up his barrel if the need did arise.

 

“Trust me, just empty it.”

 

Mista glared at his superior for a long moment, and neither of them broke the stare. The others watched them silently, their bodies incredibly tense. Eventually, the older man slipped off his hat, revealing the short mop of small black curls few people had ever seen. He opened the barrel of his revolver, and everyone watched as six golden bullets plopped nicely into his cap.

 

“There,” Guido said as he flipped the bundle back onto his head and closed the now empty gun barrel. He stowed away the weapon down the front of his pants, earning a strange noise from one of the masked individuals.

 

Giorno turned to Ren, “Without the bullets, the gun would be able to do as much harm as if it wasn’t even there. Is this enough to satisfy your request?”

 

Ren stared blankly at him, “It seems it’s going to have to.” There was a long pause after that. They continued eyeing each other until Ann put a hand on her companions shoulder, drawing his gaze to her.

 

“Let's all just head back for now, alright?” She said, forcing a smile. Ren nodded and pulled out something from his pocket. Giorno recognized it as being another one of those “modern phones”, similar to the one Futaba was showing off. With a few swipes and taps, the blonde saw the world blurring once more. He remembered the same feeling from when he was first sucked in with the group. After an instant of black, he was back in front of the cafe.

 

Giorno’s body wobbled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. Mista he saw, on the other hand, fell to the ground with a scream. The man went slightly pale.

 

“Holy shit!” He yelled and looked up to Giorno, “What the hell just happened?!”

 

Reaching out a hand to help Mista up once again, he responded, “I honestly don’t know. I felt the same sensation when I was transported there as well.” His underboss accepted the help, but was still pretty dizzy from the weird event. It took him a moment to get a grip on the situation. When he was relatively put together, he managed to take a glance around. His surroundings were nothing like the Italy he knew.

 

“Where the hell are we...” he gawked, spinning around to not miss a single detail.

 

“Would you like to come in?”

 

The two mob members turned to see Ren and the rest of his friends standing by the door of Leblanc. There was no getting out of the inevitable conversation they were about to have, Giorno knew that. Running would be a hassle for both parties. At least this time, he didn’t have to come up with any fake stories or lies. He hoped revealing his truth would in return lead to him receiving some sort of useful information.

 

“Their clothes changed...” remarked Mista as he was led into the building by his boss. He smelt coffee instantly and wanted to gag. He hated coffee. Having to deal with the aroma in Giorno’s office every morning was already too much for him, but this was on a whole different level. The two of them sat on one side of a booth, while everyone made themselves comfortable in whatever spots they could.

 

Once everyone was situated, Giorno was the first to speak, “What do you want to know?”

 

“Who the hell are you guys?” Ryuji blurted. It was the question on everyone's mind. When they had first found Haruno, they were immediately suspicious. Randomly finding a bloody, injured boy on the streets of Tokyo wasn’t a usual occurrence. His actions in Mementos only added to his mystery, as well as that of the man he brought out with him. His charm had momentarily made them let their guard down, but this time they were insistent on getting an explanation.

 

“When we first met, I was not entirely honest with you. My real name is not Haruno Shiobana, it’s Giorno Giovanna. What I tell you may sound bizarre, but please allow me to explain everything for real this time.” He had made up his mind to be fully transparent during this conversation, but it still made him a bit uneasy.

 

 “Me and my partner here, Guido Mista, are affiliated with the largest Italian gang organization known as ‘Passione’. I serve as its boss, while Mista essentially acts as my second in command. For a while now, members of our gang have been going missing. We had reason to believe that their disappearances were linked and caused by the same individual or opposing party. The two of us set off to a neighboring city in search of the culprits, but were ambushed. One of our opponent’s stand abilities was to create a tar-like substance. If touched by this liquid, it is impossible to flee from it. Before I could even attempt to fight back, I was shot by a bullet laced with poison. It hindered my ability to fight and the tar ended up getting a hold of me. Eventually, I was completely submerged in the liquid and lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, I woke up in this world. That is when you found me. From what I can tell, my friend came here the same way. My biggest concern of all of this is our belief that the enemy we were fighting may have been brought here as well, and we have no clue of his whereabouts.” Giorno took a breath, “I apologize for being untruthful to you all up until this point. Waking up in a world entirely unknown is disorienting. As a mafia boss, it is already difficult to put my trust in others, much less strangers like yourselves. What I mean to say is that we truly mean none of you any harm. We are only looking for a way to get back home and to find the man that brought us here.”

 

Everyone was silent for a long time, processing all of the new information they were given. Giorno was right when he said his story would sound crazy. To them, it was straight out of imagination.

 

“So you’re... a mafia boss? From Italy?” Makoto numbly asked. Giorno simply nodded his head. He wouldn’t hold it against them if they didn’t believe him. 

 

Ryuji groaned loudly and slammed his head down on one of the booths, “All this shit is making my head hurt...”

 

Futaba had pulled out her phone and was typing and scrolling through it feverishly. Her face was glistening with sweat, “...There’s nothing online about a ‘Giorno Giovanna’ or a ‘Passione’ anywhere.”

 

That information caught Giorno off guard. Nothing? He made it very clear when he became boss that he wanted to be open about who he was. He didn’t want to follow in Diavolo’s footsteps and hide in the shadows. Passione needed a strong leader that people could look up to and think of when they thought of the organization. Diavolo’s Passione had no “face”, no singular person that could be envisioned. But with him, things were different. Theoretically, there should be some sort of record of him out there. And yet there was nothing. Not of him, or his gang.

 

“Could you look up ‘Speedwagon Foundation’, please?”

 

Futaba paused, but then she was typing again. After a second of scrolling, “...Nothing.”

 

“Shit.” Giorno hardly ever liked to curse. He only did so in the spur of the moment or when he was genuinely overwhelmed.

 

“Why? What is the ‘Speedwagon Foundation’?” Yusuke inquired.

 

“It’s a massive consortium that has associates in tens of countries. The foundation mainly focuses on medical research and environmental conservation, but they’re involved in many other things as well. My… family has close ties with them. A lack of documentation of me or even my gang might possibly have some reasonable explanation, but there’s no way something like the Foundation would.”

 

“So… what does this mean?”

 

Giorno bit his lip, “I think we got transported to a place a lot farther away than I originally thought.” At first, the blonde had suspected he and Mista were transported to the future. Technically he was right about that, but now, “It’s possible this isn’t even ‘our world’.” Everybody shuffled in their seats.

 

“Woah woah woah, slow down buddy. First off you come out and say that you’re some crazy fifteen year-old Italian gang boss who was sucked into some goo and teleported here, and now you’re saying that this ‘here’ isn’t even ‘there’?”

 

Ann rubbed her temples, “Ryuji you’re confusing me even more.”

 

“None of this has been proven, it’s only my own speculation. Maybe we should come back to it later. I need some time to get my head wrapped around everything.”

 

“Okay what the hell are literally any of you guys saying.” The sound of Mista’s frustrated Italian filled Leblanc. For a moment Giorno forgot he was there and that he couldn't speak Japanese.

 

“Oh, he probably can’t understand us, right? Here,” Futaba took a pair of earbuds out from her pocket and hit one of the icons on her phone. After plugging in the earbuds, she slid the phone across the table towards Mista. Then she looked over to Giorno, “Tell him to put them in his ears, and then hold the phone up to his mouth and say something.”

 

He did, and Mista reluctantly followed his directions.He held the phone up and said, “Like this?” Out from the speaker came the exact words, except perfectly translated in Japanese.

 

“Woah, impressive Futaba. When did you make that?” Ren patted her on the back.

 

She smiled brightly, “I originally did it for Medjed stuff, but it really comes in handy when I’m gaming with people from other countries. I basically just took Google Translate and made it actually good. Crazy how it came in handy in a situation like this. He’ll be able to understand us too through those earbuds.”

 

“Okay, that’s better,” the gunman noted, proving her right when he nodded in understanding, “Now who the hell are you kids?”

 

A large bag next to Ren began shuffling, and out popped a cat. It pounced on the table and stood proudly before exclaiming, “We’re the renowned Phantom Thieves of Hearts!“

 

The short-haired brunette cautioned, “Mona!”

 

Mista didn’t appear dazed. “Talking cat huh... kinda like Polnareff,” he mumbled to himself.

 

“They’ve already seen us in Mementos, Makoto. It wouldn’t be long until they put two and two together if they heard literally anything about us from passerby. Both sides have to be completely transparent to each other in this situation. It shouldn’t be a problem, unless they were to go around telling people about us.”

 

Morgana said his last sentence in a somewhat menacing demeanor, but there was no way Giorno could even fake fear when the body the threat was coming from was that of a cat, “We have no intention of revealing your identities.”

 

“Mm, good.” Seemingly satisfied, the feline jumped from the table and made his way to Ann’s lap.

 

Ren took the lead from there, “We’re a group focused on reforming society by changing the corrupted desires of dishonorable individuals. Each of us has awakened what we call a Persona, which is basically a manifestation of our true selves. It’s a bit complicated to explain, but you two can kind of understand since you both have them, right?”

 

“A ‘Persona’?” Mista pondered, “No I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those.”

 

“But we all saw it, Giorno’s anyway.. Didn’t you call it ‘Gold Experience’ or something?” Ann questioned.

 

Both of them had a moment of realization, “Ohhhh you mean his stand? Yea we both have one. Mine’s called Sex Pistols.”

 

“S-Sex Pistols?” Makoto looked horrified.

 

Completely oblivious to her discomfort, he continued, “Yea they’re six lil guys. When I...” He paused and looked at Giorno, “...should we tell them abilities?”

 

His boss placed his hand on his chin. The powers of a stand were the most vital information in a battle. There was nothing more valuable than knowing what to expect. Having a grasp of your opponents power when they didn’t know yours usually gave you the upper hand in pretty much any fight. It was honestly one of a stand user’s biggest secrets.

 

However, these kids weren’t their enemies. Plus, from what he observed, the only two members of the group who appeared to be capable of coming up with such a strategy were the fiery Makoto, and the boy who seemed to act as their leader, Ren. He honestly didn’t see much of a threat when it came to fighting them strategically. “I don’t suppose it would hurt.”

 

“Alrighty! So basically Sex Pistols kinda work as a pair with my gun, and whenever I shoot they help with my aim, although I’m practically a perfect shot. They can redirect my bullets to go in crazy directions and stuff. Only problem is they’re constantly hungry.”

 

“Your Persona eats?”

 

“My  _ stand  _ does, yes. They nag me all the time for food. The Pistols are super pissy. But Giorno’s stand is cool too, although not as cool as mine though. He can turn inanimate objects into living things like animals and plants. He can also use it to heal wounds, like how he turned that cap into my skin. What about you guys? You said you had ones too right? What do yours do?”

 

“Well ours aren’t as specific as yours I don’t believe,” Yusuke considered the question, “I believe these beings you refer to as ‘stands’ work a bit differently in our world. Our powers mainly consist of elemental attacks like ice, wind, fire, etcetera. Hm, this is all quite fascinating.”

 

“We all’ve only got one Persona, but this guy over here can have tons.” Ryuji nudged Ren.

 

“Why is that? Do you know?” Mista unconsciously asked while swapping the hand he was holding the phone with. His hand was getting tired. He shook it for a bit.

 

“No, no clue.”

 

Giorno’s eyes narrowed. He recognized a lie. Deciding not to pry into it, he chose to change the subject, “Does anyone have any other immediate questions or can we save things for later? Isn’t it getting late?” The sun was beginning to set.

 

“Shit, you’re right. Man, after today I’m beat.” Ryuji yawned. He stretched out his hands.

 

“Can we continue this tomorrow? I have to get home” Haru’s sweet voice was enough to make everyone agree. Slowly, everyone began to trickle out of Leblanc and headed home. They had decided to continue their conversation the next day when everyone had time to process everything. In the end only four people remained in the cafe.

 

“You’re planning on letting them crash here, aren’t you?” Ryuji asked the raven haired boy as they stood next to the door of the cafe. The two gang members were still sitting in their booth, fiddling around with Ren’s phone. Before Futaba left, she had installed the translator app to his device and left the earpods just in case.

 

“They’ve got nowhere else to go.”

 

The blonde rubbed his hair irritatingly, “God dammit dude, you have to stop being so nice to random people! Even after what they said I can’t help but think they’re dangerous! We don’t even know if they’re telling the truth! And you’re gonna SLEEP in the same room as them?”

 

“I can’t sit around and do nothing,” Ren fiddled with his bangs, “You want me to force them to sleep on the street?”

 

“No! That’s not what…ughhh. Fine! Dammit! But I’m crashing over too then, alright? If you doze off I’ll keep an eye on them, or we can take shifts. I'm not leaving you alone in a room with the mafia.”

 

A genuine look of appreciation gleamed in his eyes through his glasses, “Thanks, Ryuji.”

 

“No problem, dude. As your best friend I’ll always have your back!” He gave Ren a firm slap on the back, enough to cause his friend to nearly fall forward, “I’m gonna go give my mom a call outside real quick, I’ll be up in a min.”

 

With that, Ren was left alone. He told the two at the booth that they were fine to stay with him in Leblanc overnight. Mista sighed in relief and thanked him, while Giorno did not make a sound. He only gave a simple nod and then looked away. On their way up to the attic, he showed the new man where the bathroom was, just in case. Ren was laying down a few blankets with Giorno’s help when Ryuji came trudging up the stairs.

 

“What’s he doing here?” Mista was laying sideways on the couch.

 

The new arrival plopped down on Ren’s bed, “I’m staying here to keep an eye on you two.” The two boys exchanged irking glances.

 

Their silent stare-off was interrupted when Ren told them the blankets were set and it was time for bed. Mista and Ryuji fought for a bit about who got the couch until Giorno yelled at Mista to get his ass on the floor. When Ryuji stuck his tongue out, Guido had to be held back. Giorno only ever saw him like this sometimes with Narancia.

 

The two sets of blankets were set up parallel to Ren’s bed with Mista in the middle and Giorno the furthest away. More bickering occured when Mista pulled the gun from his pants to set it off to the side. In retaliation, the man went on a long rant about the time he accidentally left the weapon in his boxers when he slept and nearly blew his dick off. The story lightened the mood a bit.

 

None of them went to bed right away. They continued discussing the events of that day, as well as talking about their own worlds. The gangsters spoke of their friends back home and their journey up until that of Diavolo’s retribution, while the remaining Thieves told them about their adventures in palaces and their group as a whole. Both tales ended up sounding like fictional stories to the opposing groups, but it was still interesting to hear. It also helped to calm everyone's suspicions. While they both sounded like a work of imagination, the corroboration of both from two people added to their credibility.

 

Giorno stayed relatively silent the whole time. He had never been in a situation like this before, that being a “sleepover”. He knew that the circumstances were very different, but it still made him uncomfortable. It made him feel a lot of conflicting things. One part of him was telling him that the whole experience made him feel like a child, something he hated. He never liked being seen as a little brat, especially by his mafia peers. Respect was very important to Giorno, and that was something his age rarely helped him with during first impressions.

 

But on the other hand he felt a strange sort of giddy feeling. On this particular evening, he wasn’t worried about his life or that of his friends, he didn’t feel like he needed to be the “boss”, and he was able to listen freely to the conversations of normal teenagers that were around his age. It was all so foreign, and unexpectedly exhilarating.

 

Some people thought of him as cold, distant, or emotionless. And most of the time he gave them good reason to believe that. It was all done on purpose and because of how he was raised, but Giorno still had emotions, and he still thought. He thought a lot. His feelings were never allowed to be visibly shown, but they were still there. They churned inside of his heart constantly.

 

He wasn’t a normal fifteen year-old, he wasn’t allowed to be. After everything, there’s no way a guy like him would fit in in an environment like this. The mafia was the best possible place he could be.

 

“Hey Gio, we’re taking turns staying up,” Mista grumbled, face stuffed in a pillow beside him, “can you take the first shift?”

 

“Huh? Oh, sure.”

 

It didn’t even take a minute for his partner to be out cold. Once Ryuji was satisfied by that development, he dozed off on the couch not long after. The room was left in an eerie silence. It would have been pitch black in the large attic if not for the moonlight dimly shining through the singular window to the side of Ren’s bed. Giorno dared to take a secret glance at the figure laying on the mattress.

 

Ren’s glasses were sitting neatly on the shelf next to him. It was weird how without them he looked like a different person almost. He laid, staring at the wooden ceiling with arms crossed under his head. The bed was neatly made, but it lacked any pillows or a bedspread. Those items must have gone to the makeshift areas for Giorno and Mista to sleep.

 

The night was cold, reminding him that it was December in this world. The attic seemed to be poorly insulated, unable to properly trap heat. Giorno continued observing Ren. Since his bed was completely bare, he was able to see the boy was only wearing sweatpants and a thin, black, long-sleeved shirt.

 

The gangstar sat up in his spot and crumpled up one of the blankets covering him into a large fabric ball, tossing it over to the other man. It crashed into his face and he jumped up from the bed, clearly startled.

 

“It’s cold, you should cover up.”

 

Ren unfolded the blanket, looking between it and Giorno, “You sure, what about you?”

 

The younger man stood up and snatched the cover underneath him, the one he had previously been laying on. Giorno gracefully encased himself in it. He trudged a few feet towards the shelf adjacent to his company and gently slid down the wall to once again sit, his back propped gently against it, “I still have one.”

 

“Thanks… sure you’ll be able to sleep like that though?”

 

Giorno had no plans of sleeping that night, “It will suffice.”

 

Ren copied his motions, sitting on the edge of his bed while wrapping his newly received blanket over his shoulders. “...So what will the two of you do tomorrow?”

 

“I would like to start looking for the man whose powers brought us here. Would you mind taking us to that strange place again?”

 

“You mean Mementos? I think we could, but can I ask why you’d want to go  _ there _ ?”

 

“Just a hunch I suppose. If our enemy came here with Mista, I think it’d be best to start at the same location we found him.”

 

Ren chuckled deeply, “You’re oddly perceptive for your age.”

 

His eye twitched, but he managed to build up a convincing smile, “Age is irrelevant in my line of work, the only thing that matters is one’s skill and determination.”

 

“You’re a curious fellow, Giovanna.”

 

“Well, you are quite two-faced yourself, Amamiya.”

 

They ended up chatting the rest of the night in the dark. Their conversation was mindless, carrying no substantial value whatsoever. Neither boy ever ended up waking their friends. They talked until the room slowly began to grow brighter, and the sun stretched quietly across the horizon. Just as Mista was beginning to stir, Ren asked one final question to end their discussion.

 

“Hey, Giorno...” he paused, “...have you ever killed someone?”

 

It was silent for a very long time.

 

“Yes.”

 

Ren didn’t say a word. For the next twenty minutes, the two of them bathed in quietness until their friends awoke to greet them, as the second-to-last day of Giorno’s bizarre adventure in Japan began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated <3  
> Thank you for reading!!


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